


Collateral Damage

by charro (thurste)



Series: Words Are All We Have [1]
Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Carlos has scientific logics, Cecil has an existential crisis, Early relationship - shortly after the second date or so, Existence is tricky the scientists say, Introducing Sam Birge - Master physicist and token smart ass, M/M, Text Messages, The City Council and/or Sheriff's Secret Police are trying to ruin your life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:17:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thurste/pseuds/charro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil has a disagreement with the City Council and is taken away for re-education. Unlike before, he no longer has only himself to answer to, both before and after being taken into custody.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally posting some of the Welcome to Night Vale stories that I have co-written with Hyululu, owner of the 'asktheerikas' blog on Tumblr. We wrote this back in August/early September. More to come soon once I finish editing the next bit -- don't worry, it's not all in text message format.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
I'm a thing, right? Like, I actually exist, don't I?  
  
[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Yes. Is there some reason you wouldn't?  
  
[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] It's unbearably difficult to tell at times. What, with my luck. Of lack thereof.  
[2] Sometimes I feel like a ghost.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
One can't question one's own existence without, in fact, existing.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Are you sure about that? It's the madman, after all, who doesn't know he's mad. Granted that seems more likely than not existing at all  
[2] It's easier to deal with living in this mad world with the understanding that it's all a construct in the mind of a madman.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Madmen and ghosts exist. Not existing is literally the last thing you will ever have to worry about.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
Have you any empirical proof?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
No.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
Well, then.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
If you were mad, and this was all in your head, you would provide yourself with proof. Maybe that would mean I have proof to give you, or someone else does. But I don't. I don't because I'm not just a part of your mind, grasping at answers that will make things easier. And people will always try to give themselves answers. I can't give you that, with this, because I'm just me, not a part of you.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] You are a part of me though.  
[2] That's the problem  
[3] Anyway, the City Council is providing me with proof in the form of re-education. I suppose a nonexistent thing doesn't need to be re-educated right?  
[4] I'll text you again when I'm out of the box.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
I'm going to have a talk with the City Council.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Don't! Please, please don't!  
[2] It's my fault. Please, Carlos, don't get yourself mixed up in this. It'll only make things worse.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
They can't just put you in a box and 're-educate' you just because you're thinking weird philosophical existential things.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Please!  
[2] That's not why.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
...Worse how? Worse for you?

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] For both of us. Just let me do this, Carlos. And forgive me later if I am forced to refute your existence on the air.  
[2] Please just stay home or at the lab. Or I may never see you again. I don't think I can survive that.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Cecil. Why are you being re-educated?

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
I have to go.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Cecil, why are they re-educating you? Tell me!

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] I'll try not to be long. They don't usually keep me for more than a day or two. Please just wait for me. If I could convey begging through text message, that is what I would be doing now.  
[2] Bye.

_~~~~~_

_Several hours later..._

_~~~~~_

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]  
They let me out earlier than usual. I was extra compliant for once. Are you okay, my Carlos?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Oh god, I'm glad to hear that. Cecil, did they hurt you? You're never clear about what re-education entails and nobody will tell me anything.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
I'm fine, Carlos. I'm fine. A bit tired. But fine. I take it you haven't been yet. Which is good. I'd keep it that way. Re-education is… Well, 'indescribable' is the only way I can think to describe it.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
I've been told to stop asking.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
That's very wise advice but. Are. You. Okay?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
We're fine.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
We?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Yes, we. Us. All of us. All fine here, all of the time. =)

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Oh. Okay. I had been worried.  
[2] About you (singularly) in specific, I must admit...

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
We're all perfectly fine and intact.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
Carlos...

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Cecil Palmer.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
Are YOU, MY scientist, who I must now indefinitely refute the existence of, OKAY?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Everyone is okay.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Okay. Fine.  
[2] If this is your idea of torture, you should really take lessons from the City Council or the Sheriff's Secret Police. I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
We don't like to think of it as torture. Goodnight, Mr. Palmer.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Oh. Please disregard previous messages. I didn't mean anything by it.  
[2] Also, if it's no trouble, please don't keep him long.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
We'll see what we can do.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] It would be most appreciated.  
[2] And, although I openly know and agree that scientists do not exist, please be gentle with him.  
[3] Thank you.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
It is not our intention to cause damage to the scientists at this stage, Mr. Palmer. We anticipate your broadcast tomorrow.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Please. You have my assured compliance. I was not disingenuous. PLEASE.  
[2] Do you wish my return? I would happily trade places. Happily.  
[3] I wont fight this time. Send the SSP. I'll go quietly.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Sir, if I can be personal for a moment: your compliance has been appreciated and taken into special consideration at this juncture. I highly recommend you proceed with the broadcast as intended. They're just in holding right now. They'll be released tomorrow after your show. If nothing goes awry.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Nothing will.  
[2] Thank you.  
[3] I appreciate your frankness.  
[4] Sincerely, I do.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
[1] I understand your concern. We intend to make this as simple as possible for your scientist.  
[2] We appreciate your future cooperation.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] For that I am undeniably grateful. You have my cooperation entirely.  
[2] I know this is unorthodox but would you tell him (Carlos, you know, the one with the stunningly perfect hair) something for me?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
I will. What's your message?

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] Thank you. Will you tell him that he's my hero? And that I will do whatever is required of me to see that he is promptly released? And to please just comply with whatever is asked of him in the meantime? For me?  
[2] And to please text me immediately when he is released, regardless of the time.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
He has been notified.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] THANK YOU.  
[2] If I come to the abandoned mineshaft, may I see him?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
[1] Sir  
[2] I can probably arrange that for you.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
Omg, really?!

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Yes, sir, really. But we're going to have to be very discreet about this.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] On my life  
[2] I shall never use more discretion than I shall tonight.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Alright. Tonight then, 00:00 hours, look for a blue light to the left of the mineshaft barricade and go to it. Highly advised you do not wear anything that is any shade of yellow.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
Understood. Is there anything I can do for YOU? To show you my appreciation?

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Yes, sir. There is something.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
Anything.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
Don't get caught.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
[1] I will do my absolute utmost.  
[2] You have my word.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
[1] Thank you, sir. This could go badly for all of us.  
[2] I would rather not see you brought in again so soon.

[FROM: Cecil TO: Carlos]     
And I would no sooner put a fellow Night Valeaen in danger than I would my precious scientist.

[FROM: Carlos TO: Cecil]     
I appreciate the sentiment, sir. See you at 00:00.


	2. Chapter 2

Truth be told, Cecil is not at all certain of any this. He’s not certain of whom will meet him when he arrives. He’s not certain that he won’t end up with a black bag over his head the moment he steps out of his vehicle. He’s not certain that he won’t see his soul whither to pieces and float away into the starless void above. The only thing that Cecil _is_ certain of— as he drives slowly toward the mineshaft with his headlights off, clothed in nothing but black and a Spider Wolves baseball cap to cover his hair and facial features— is that there is a blue light to the left of the mineshaft barricade just as he was told there would be, that this is extremely dangerous, that this detention center (uncertainly) contains his Carlos, and that he could not have stayed away if he tried.

Special Secret Officer Gilmore Ashenfelder shivers in the dark, though it isn't a particularly chilly desert night and his uniform is fairly warm. The thing is, he's nervous. _So_ nervous. He's not the kind of guy who breaks rules; he doesn't sneak around at midnight doing sneaky things, sneaking people into places and letting them sneak conversations with prisoners. Sneakily. Especially not when no one is supposed to know said prisoners are even _here_. This is supposed to be covert. He's sort of screwed that up.

Still. He's a big fan of The Voice and Cecil Palmer has always been a generally helpful and compliant kind of guy. _Generally._ Also, even via text, it’s obvious that learning about the scientists' detention set Cecil on edge and well... He feels pretty guilty about that. So, here he is, crouched in the blackest shadows of the mine barricade, a tiny blue lens fitted over his tiny pocket flashlight, straining for _any sound_ that would signify the need to abort _really fucking fast._

At precisely midnight, Cecil gets out of his car and makes his way as soundlessly as possible to the barricade, heart hammering in his chest. Gilmore hears careful footsteps, slow and quiet-ish through the dusty terrain, and he tries to make out the silhouette. Baseball caps are not regulation, not anymore, so he steps out from the _very dark_ into the _slightly less_ dark where he might be seen against the night sky. Maybe. It's very dark out here.

"Mr. Palmer." He isn't certain it actually _is_ Cecil Palmer but it's a statement, not a question; he's got an image to keep up, after all.

Question or statement regardless, Cecil nearly jumps out of his skin when the shadowy figure steps out from behind the barricade, speaking to him in a voice that is startlingly loud in the near silence. His reflexes are all flight right now, ready to make a run for it if need be. He has always abided with the law, generally, even when his noncompliance has ended in detention. Generally. But Cecil has rarely been so frightened, especially for someone else. _Especially_ for his Carlos, _his scientist._

"Uhm... Hello?" Cecil says, his voice quivering as he tries to make out a face, balaclava clad or not, in the dark. "Who-Who's there?"

The officer raises a hand in a gesture that is meant to be calming and immediately realizes that it's probably too dark for Cecil to even _see_ it. However, Cecil does see it— or rather, he sees its shadow in the dim blue light— and the moment that hand goes up both of Cecil’s own hands fly out in front of him, palms open, in automatic surrender. He doesn't have it in him to feel as gutless as he probably should, not after spending all day in re-education. But then, he was born and raised in Night Vale. Even if he _does_ pretend that he sometimes has an in with the Sheriff and his secret police, he (generally) knows better than to question them or to mess with them in any capacity.

Gilmore turns off the blue light, tucks it away, makes sure to keep his body language neutral so that the bit of him that _is_ visible won't make The Voice go tearing across the desert in fear. "My name is Ashenfelder, sir. I'm the one who texted you from the scientist's phone."

"Ashenfelder. Right.” Cecil stands there, immobilized, hands still out in front of him. “I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met."

"No, sir, we haven't. Not in person." Stepping out towards Cecil, Gilmore takes hold of his upper arm. “We need to go inside before the new watch shifts over. This way."

"O-okay."

Gilmore doesn't guide Cecil toward the barricaded entrance but back toward the shadowed area where he'd been waiting. Cecil lets himself be led, blindly, trying hard to neither freeze up in terror ( _this isn't the entrance where are you taking me oh god I've done it now oh Cecil you fool_ ) nor explode with questions. He _tries_. But it simply is not enough only to know that Carlos is here. Well, at least that his phone is here. "Is Carlos... Is he alright? I— Sorry, officer, I must have asked you ten times tonight. I just... I _need_ to know. I've been worried sick and. Okay, I'll-I'll shut up."

It’s clear Cecil isn’t going to get an answer. Gilmore, for his part, is very good at giving the stoic, silent treatment in any given situation. It's literally part of the uniform. And that's what he does as he leads Cecil into the very-dark darkness, even though a good part of him wants to offer reassurances about this whole situation and possibly to ask for an autograph. But he's a _professional_ , even if he _is_ breaking approximately seventeen different rules right now.

The officer stops a little ways beyond the barricade and lets go of Cecil's arm. "Here." A gloved hand reaches out, touches the empty air in front of them, and _pushes_. Part of the desert scenery grows a white seam and it widens into a narrow rectangle of light. When their eyes adjust, they're looking through a doorway that leads into a low-ceilinged, dim tunnel. "Fire escape," he offers helpfully and ushers him inside.

Cecil tries to level his breathing, to reign in his fright, as they pass through the hidden door. He doesn't remember much of his stays here, at least in terms of schematics. Detainees are usually lead by blindfold/hood/bag but he probably could have guessed that these sorts of doorways exist. His guard isn't let down completely but the balaclava clad man seems genuine (if a bit shifty and quiet, but that's to be expected) and is breaking protocols that even a layman like Cecil knows he shouldn’t be. He swallows and blinks in the blinding light of the tunnel, trying not to appear too interested in the architecture or in anything about anything at all, resigned to his fate— either he is being lead to his death or lead to his scientist and there isn't a damn thing he can or will do to stop either scenario.

The claustrophobic but nicely atmospheric tunnel is a long one. Most of the fire escapes are, since they branch out from various main chambers and lead strange, winding paths underground. Which is weird since pretty much all of them open up within a reasonable perimeter around the actual entrance. But then, how stupid would it be if they just opened up in the middle of the desert? _Pfft._ Gilmore contemplates this in silence for about half their trip through the tunnel— which is maybe only an unnerving five minutes or so— before abruptly saying, "I'm certain you won't, sir, but just a reminder: please don't abuse your new knowledge of this particular fire escape." And then silence again, with the exception of their lightly echoing footsteps.

"I give you my word, friend," Cecil whispers to him, eyes wide. "I would never abuse this, not for what you're giving me." And Cecil means it too. If he makes it out of here, this guy is going to get his _own_ special trophy for being... Well, just amazing. Not _Carlos_ amazing, but amazing nevertheless. "I won’t forget this."

The end of the tunnel opens out into a much bigger, much brighter tunnel, and Gilmore stops Cecil a few feet back from the opening. "Wait here." He steps casually out into the main tunnel, as if he’s planning on just walking away entirely. And he would have, too, if there was anyone else coming from any direction. But there wasn't. He comes back. "Alright. We need to move fast, so stay behind me and _hurry_." And then he runs— well, no, _sprints_ — down the main tunnel.

As always, when it comes to the secret police, Cecil does exactly as he’s told. He waits, silently pressed against the cool stone wall as if that would hide him somehow (not likely) and then he follows after the other man, very light on his feet as he keeps right on his heels. The more they move through, the more Cecil lets himself hope _beyond_ hope that things, for once, are exactly as they seem.

No one comes. No one sees them. Gilmore is pretty much pissing himself at every single shadow that creeps across the walls because every time he is certain that it is _someone_. But it is always no one, thank the multi-headed deities.

It isn't long at all before they reach a split in the tunnel. They follow it left and the walls gradually become lined with doors. Lots and lots and _lots_ of doors. But Gilmore keeps count easily and slides to a stop before a door marked 5A19. "Here!" In several fluid movements, he yanks Cecil towards the door, produces a keycard from _somewhere_ , slides it into the reader while mumbling a quick, gravelly chant, and then pushes the door open, all but dragging The Voice inside.

It all happens very quickly. So quickly in fact, that Cecil knows he could never find his way back out of here again if he tried. And then, suddenly, _void_. Except... Not. The door shuts behind them with a polite _click_ and the room is black except for one or two small blueish rectangles of light, which illuminate bored-looking faces in the dark. The void isn't filled with people, it’s filled with _void_.

And then there is a woman's voice, clear and highly annoyed. "Did you have to leave us in the fucking dark? It's creepy as shit in here!" Cecil almost laughs because, _well, of course, that must be Sam._ Cecil has never met the woman or spoken to her beyond a few conversations on Carlos' stolen cell phone, but it has to be her. _That means they're all here. All of the..._

Then it’s the officer's voice, still relatively close to Cecil. "My apologies, ma'am." Another, different kind of _click_ and the lights flickered on. "I'm afraid I turned them off without thinking. I was preoccupied with—"

"Cecil!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There were some grammar and tense issues in this part, but I think I got them all. The next part has lots of Carlos but is also lengthier and will therefore take that much longer to edit and post. Hopefully not too long though.


End file.
